Darrel Sparkman - After the Fall

“Of course,” Trent and Katie replied together.

The clearing was small, less than twenty feet across, with vegetation choking the perimeter. The mass of cuts and mutilations in the center of the clearing barely resembled a human form.

The group stopped at the edge of the forest. “How did he find her?”

Cruz gave one of his eloquent shrugs. “Blind luck. He was coming to join us and came across this trail. He followed. The trail comes in here, and leaves on the other side of the clearing.”

He nodded, and then dismounted. “Have the men wait. Let’s look around.”

An hour later, they stood in the shade of a pin oak, watching the men wrap the girl into a blanket and secure her over a saddle.

Katie wasn’t quite patting her foot, but he could tell she wasn’t pleased with the lack of movement. “Shouldn’t we be following that trail?”

His reply was soft and he was lost in thought a moment. “The body looks to be a day old.”

She quickly caught on. “And the trail?”

“Today.” Cruz confirmed. “There is a boot track at the edge of the clearing. The edges are still well defined. There was a light rain last night that would have softened the imprint.”

“Thanks for the lesson.” Katie said dryly.

One of the riders was leading the horse back down the trail to the ranch, with two men riding guard. The rest looked expectantly at him.

He sighed, feeling this was the start of an avalanche with no end in sight and no stopping it. “So, let’s go see.”

He was on point, with Cruz and Katie close behind. The dense growth was too hard to ride through, and the men walked, leading their horses. The trail wasn’t hard to follow—a rock turned over here, scuff marks somewhere else.

Stopping a moment, he stood listening. The only sounds he could hear were from the men and animals behind him. As always, when trailing, he wished he were alone. “He’s pushing too hard.”

“I think we have the same thoughts, amigo.” Cruz had come to stand by him. Both gazed down at the barely discernible trail.

“You think someone came up to the body, then heard or saw someone, and went after them.”

Cruz nodded with a grim expression. “The trail ahead is made for ambush. We must be very careful.”

The trail in front of them blended into a path that wound around the side of a mountain, closed in by dense brush and trees on both sides. The path was barely visible, and used only by the animals of the forest. The trees overhead let in filtered sunlight, just enough to make shadows dark enough to hide in. As they rounded a pile of rock, brought up against some trees during a landslide long ago, he saw the body.

Holding his hand up, he instructed the party to stay back as he went on alone.

He knelt beside the man, amazed he was still alive, then propped him up against a tree trunk. When he moved him, he found the courier pouch the man had hidden beneath himself. He slung it around his own shoulder out of habit.

“Damn.”

The knife wound in the victims belly was amazingly bloodless, but already the smell was overwhelming.

Grabbing feebly at his arm, the courier tried to form words his lips couldn’t master. Finally, his voice breaking up and faint, he managed to speak. “Trent. I never— never saw him. Had on an army shirt—”

Lieutenant Saints gathered his strength with a visible effort. Looking at him with feverish eyes, he coughed up blood and his halting voice wheezed as his lungs fought for breath. “It’s not supposed to be this way. A man is supposed to die with tall sons by his side, and daughters to take care of him.”

“You’re a good man, Saints. That counts for something.” Trent’s voice was soft.

The man gave what passed for a laugh. “I’ve been trying to die… it just won’t happen. Can’t stand the pain. I’ll be crying like a baby in a few hours. We’re soldiers, Trent. We’ve both been in combat. I’m asking for release.” The last word pushed past his lips as the soldier grimaced in pain and coughed up more blood.

Chico and Katie had come up behind him.

“You know this one?” Chico asked.

She answered for him. “Isn’t he the colonel’s aide, from back at base camp?”

He nodded, not moving the hand that was gripping the soldier’s shoulder. “Fred Saints. He’s Colonel Bonham’s adjutant.”

“He’s still alive.” Cruz was looking at the lieutenant.

“I know.” He said softly.

“With that wound, it could take days for him to die. But he will surely die, my friend. He would suffer a great deal.” Cruz was now looking at him intently.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said in a soft voice. “It’s all I can do for him.”

“John,” Katie interjected in a startled voice. “There has got to be another way. We can get him back to town. With care…?”

“With care, he’d last an extra week.” His listless voice was even and unemotional. As a soldier, Saints had made a final request. And whether he liked him or not, he was a comrade in arms.

Cruz put his hand on his arm. “Would you allow me to do this?”

“No. Thanks, Chico­—but, no.”

Later, as they were standing around at the edge of the clearing, Katie came to Trent. “Why would Saints be here?”

“I don’t know, Katherine.” His voice was tired. “I do know he and the colonel were cooking up some plan for moving out here. Maybe he was coming to see me.”

He stood with hands on hips as the men with Cruz scouted around the area. They came back with the report he expected.

Nothing.

After burying Saints, Katie and the men sat resting beneath the trees. The sun was starting to dip toward the west, and darkness comes early to the forest. It would soon be time to go, but there was a curious reluctance among them to leave this place.

“I don’t know. Maybe there is a clue here, and we just can’t see it.” His voice was skeptical. “I know one thing. Our man is getting a lot messier in his work.”

“Which means?” She was still queasy from seeing the young girl, and then Fred Saints.

“Maybe he’s losing control. It’s possible this has come on him just this past couple of years. If so, he’s killing more frequently. It’s as if he is feeding on it. But it’s starting to take more to satisfy him. He’s starting to hurry. And if he is losing control, maybe he’ll make a mistake. I just hope I’m close when he does.”

She tossed a small stick toward the fire they’d built for coffee. “The words Saints said to you didn’t make sense.”

“I know. The word Army . But it made sense to him. I think he was amazed. You know, he and I did some training together. He was a good man in the forest, although maybe not one of the best. Whoever killed him, laid an ambush and got him cold. He never saw who hit him.”

A sudden glimmer of light dawned in Trent’s eyes. “Maybe that’s it. If he wore camouflage, then you might not see him. Maybe that’s what he meant by army.”

Everyone was looking at him expectantly. “Before the Fall, there was a lot of really neat high tech stuff in the ranks. I noticed a few of them in the packs of the patrol we came in with.”

“Like?” Katie interjected.

“Like a gadget that will tell your position within five feet at any spot in the world, goggles that turn night into day, clothing that changes color like a chameleon. Heat sensors that let you find a man in the dark. You put all that stuff with a man that is an expert in the forest anyway…?”

She was shaking her head. “But there’s no Army around here. Gunny is missing, and the Green Jeans patrol was wiped out.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Cruz was unconvinced. “Besides, they don’t have to be Army. Anyone could have these things, now.”